22:10 <banana> The lights are low, even seductive, but Willie's batting ducks. It's a nice day outside, barely any bluster, but the gamers in Alpha Strike aren't interested in leaving their cave - or talking about the weather. 22:12 <banana> They let her in happily enough. She brings food? She's a friend. The problem is that most of them are huddled around "LAN boxes", taking part in some sort of internet tournament, and the language they speak - while not obviously demonic - is unintelligible. 22:14 <banana> The main room's lit, but they don't want light leaking in from the lounge or bedrooms. In the warm darkness of the gamer house, Willie's being tolerated as long as she doesn't get in the way of someone's screen. The two big guys she has pegged as the power couple who run this place haven't even acknowledged her presence - last time, they were all smiles and suspicion. And stench of brimstone. 22:15 <banana> Gamer: "I've got corp por up. Back to the mansion in five." 22:15 <banana> Another replies: "British's people are the drawbridge, but I've got runes on it." Does he mean British people? 22:17 <banana> There's one guy who got.. fragged or SWATted or something. Hambo. He's been drinking gatorade for an improbable length of time, still swigging whenever Willie comes near. It's not hostile, just odd. 22:18 <banana> The only other woman in the room cries out from the depths of her hoodie. "Unflagging!" 22:19 <banana> It seems to mean something, since several people nod and one even takes his hand off the mouse to do a a fistpump. 22:20 <VoxPVoxD> The nice lady who wasn't selling anything yesterday has come back, with flat white boxes. "I didn't know what kind you'd like, so I made two. This one's rocket and Parma ham, and this one is tomato and basil." She brought a package of disposable plates and her pizza cutter from home. She underestimated the weather — unseasonably warm for September — and she dressed for bluster, in 22:20 <VoxPVoxD> a sturdy pullover. 22:22 <VoxPVoxD> She's been dressing lazy like this since she moved — between the new-city-no-friends funk and the office still being mostly remote she hasn't really needed to do better. "What are you playing?" 22:25 <banana> She gets grunts of acknowledgement around the main table (big, plastic, covered in power cables and blue cords), and if the boxes are set down at a safe distance then players will start grabbing at them almost immediately. They're happy grunts, just not.. polite. 22:25 <banana> The darker skinned of the two demon(?) leaders rolls his chair back a little bit and laughs at the pizza for some reason; Hambo has also set down his drink to stare at it wide-eyed and mirthful. 22:26 <banana> Leader: "Ultima Odyssey. This is the final battle.. the most virtuous of trials. Thanks for the dosh.." but he's already swivelling back to the game. 22:28 <banana> Hambo's unfortunately well named, but clean and showered. He sidles up to Willie and mutters something like, haven't been to one of these before right. "Pearls before swine. Two for eight will get you a snack." 22:30 <banana> Given the rate at which they eat, these people are probably clients of her office. 22:31 <VoxPVoxD> Do they let her peek over their shoulders? Are they really just... playing a game? On regular computers? Willie offers Hambo a cheery, closed-mouth smile. "It's a gamble, yeah? Imagine if you didn't like it, and I had to slink out of here with two cold mostly-uneaten pizzas. The shame!" 22:33 <banana> Or are they students? There's a big RUSSELL GROUP: PURSUE IMPOSSIBLE sign on the wall, stolen from the Oxford Road campus - it's obviously stolen since the other things they have nailed are a stop sign, two traffic cones and one of those antennas you get on wireless billboards. 22:34 <banana> The game looks old - not photorealistic at all. There are wizards, knights, fireballs, definitely game things. Hambo isn't paying much attention to the screens now that his avatar has totally disintegrated. "I'm not fighting my way back in there for a slice, but it smells good. D'you cook much?" 22:38 <VoxPVoxD> The pettiness of the wrongdoing is part of what Willie finds so compelling. Little more than shoplifters or vandals, from the looks of it, but so boldly. There's a real aesthetic sensibility here. It's not the kind of performance she associates with demons. Neither tempter nor tempted, without apparent or implied malice... "Oh yeah, loads. It's almost my only hobby, sad as that sounds. So 22:38 <VoxPVoxD> how did you all get together? How does a Gamer House form?" 22:39 <banana> Hambo: "Well- T3rt!arY, log me out." There! He just pronounced numbers and symbols using a handful of ordinary syllables! That's either magic or some deformity of the tongue! 22:40 <banana> "Over here?" The big guy (big in a considerably less impressive way than the clan's leaders) leads Willie through an arched and doorless entryway to an alcove with several awful comfy chairs. 22:41 <banana> "The story of Alpha Strike could be seen as a long and noble one." 22:43 <VoxPVoxD> It's not *clean*, but she's been in much grosser gamer dens than this, if you set aside the omnipresent odor of sulphur. Honestly, even if you don't. "Ooh. Do go on." 22:46 <banana> Hambo looks over Willie, probably wondering something like: who she is and why she is here. But he doesn't say that. He says: "Start with, it's a more fun hobby than chefery but a lot less practical. Most of us weren't making a penny on our own, trying to scrounge a living from leaderboards and build orders." 22:47 <banana> "All of that changed when the Top Laners brought us together. Jan and Nige." Jan is 'yan', and that guy does look kind of Scandie. 22:49 <banana> Hambo: "They have... a vision. And this vision I'll thank you to keep from rival clans, ok?" 22:50 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "You have my word." 22:53 <banana> Hambo: "Mint. Here's the thing Jan and Nige taught the rest of us: It doesn't matter if you can get sponsorships, doesn't matter if you're diamond league in individual. We're a team, right, and we practice as a team, develop that team synergy.. and there's a trick to that practice." 22:54 <banana> "Every time we play, every practice session and every ranked game.. we get better." 22:54 <banana> "You just.. keep getting better. That way it's inevitable that you'll end up the best." 22:55 <banana> This guy is more talkative than the rest, kind of intense about it. He's absolutely deadpan. If he's joking he should be on gameshows. 22:56 <banana> Somewhere in the other room, the girl in the hoodie yells "Fuck their arses." 22:59 <VoxPVoxD> Willie, about either the origins of Alpha Strike or the distant vulgarity: "That's rather inspiring. I can see the appeal." 22:59 <VoxPVoxD> "What do you think happens when you become the best? How will you know you've made it?" 22:59 <banana> Hambo: "It sounds so simple. Get better, get better again, repeat.. like compound interest. But yeah, there's a goal." 23:01 <banana> "Get good enough and we can take down any clan. On the way there. Get good enough on the compound interest plan... and we can attack and destroy God. In Minecraft." 23:01 <banana> "A single alpha strike." 23:01 <banana> Hambo: "You want to replace God here with basically any parental or authority figure on whom you'd like to take revenge. The details are generally personal." 23:03 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "As opposed to the literal, Biblical God. Whom you do not oppose?" 23:05 <banana> Hambo raises his large arms in a theatrical shrug. "I mean sure, I do. It's 2021. But God can be a standin, right? We practice improvement through gaming.. improvement of our gaming prowess. There's no reason to stop getting better. No real-life skill cap, not like some RPG. Why not personally stand on par with the divine?" 23:08 <VoxPVoxD> How weirdly charming. "You're quite a unique little cabal." 23:09 <VoxPVoxD> Confidentially: "Do you smell sulphur?" 23:09 <banana> Another one of the gamers has been knocked out of their fantasy battle for good. This time it's a guy who Willie's heard being called Klat, or Clat. After disentangling his headphones he takes a few steps toward the alcove where Willie and Hambo are talking, but doesn't actually join in. Looks pensive. 23:10 <banana> Hambo: "Oh shit. Look, I'm sorry about some of the guys.. we train hard, that's the point, but- Clat, take a wobble to the shower already." 23:12 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "Oh, no! Please, no, nothing like that. Forgive me, I have a hereditary condition. I get these signals in my brain, and it interprets them as smells. Like brimstone in the presence of demons." 23:12 <VoxPVoxD> "Ordinarily a sign of tremendous danger... but not this time." 23:12 <VoxPVoxD> "You all seem perfectly lovely." 23:13 <banana> Klat: "So I'm not making it difficult for you two to frat-er-nize?" He draws the word out, fra' 'er nise. 23:14 <banana> Hambo scowls with half his mouth, at Clat, but twists the other side up as he turns back to Willie. "Yeah, sure, this is honestly the least dangerous house in the block." 23:14 <banana> "We've got dealers, scousers, wowsers, wankers and probably a nonce or two. Here you only get bowsers." 23:14 <VoxPVoxD> Willie laughs. 23:15 <banana> "Are you interested at all? In the Alpha Strike philosophy, want to extend your deathmatch skills indefinitely? Or, uh, learn what deathmatch is even?" 23:20 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "Very interested. You'll need to bear with me; I am deplorably casual. As below, so above. Or are you entirely outside the Hierarchy?" 23:21 <VoxPVoxD> Ridiculous to take demons, even bizarrely friendly geek demons at face value, of course... but their face value compels Willie to dig deeper. 23:23 <banana> Clat? Maybe it's Claat, like bumbaclaat? Anyway, he says: "You say some odd things, L- Miss." 23:23 <banana> "Pizza was good by the way. Good call to stay away from complicated toppings, as we are mostly Philistines." 23:23 <banana> Hambo: "Do not be a douche bag. Avoid the bag of the douche." 23:24 <banana> "Sorry, what did you say yesterday.. Willie? Yeah, hierarchy, we haven't got much of that. The Top Laners are better than the rest of us, but someone's got to be." 23:27 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "And they — Jan and Nige — recruited you all? Were you already 'out' somehow, or did they free you?" 23:27 <VoxPVoxD> "I apologize if this is too personal." 23:39 <VoxPVoxD> There's an awkward silence. "This is not at all what I expected to find when I was shopping yesterday. It's not really what I expected to find when I got back. You have surprised me, again and again. First by accepting me, then by engaging in sincerity and good faith. I hope I've lived up to that gesture. But I am terribly curious." 23:40 <banana> Claat: "I mean - you say coming out - only those guys *had* to, the rest of us are straight, or at least I am.. not saying it'd be a problem, I'm just saying.." 23:42 <banana> Hambo: "Go take a shower, keystone." He shifts his full attention to Willie, listening. 23:42 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "Forgive me, but... you are demons, aren't you?" 23:44 <banana> Hambo: "I can only speak for myself here. That's kind of our thing." The other guy's fucked off, anyway, and the noise of fireballs and Tert!arY screaming titillating things pretty much covers up your conversation. 23:45 <banana> "I am, personally, a demon. More important thing to me, I'm DPS, not the best DPS but we have forever to improve. I don't know what you are, except you're not selling anything." 23:47 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "That's interesting. You don't get anything from me at all?" 23:48 <banana> Hambo doesn't concentrate or incant or anything. He draws something like a sigil in the air, but it clearly isn't infernal magic, just.. a shape. "All I'm seeing on you, Willie, is missed calls." 23:48 <banana> "Uh, we don't get signal in the House. Sorry about that, you can probably get voicemail once you're out." 23:49 <banana> There is in fact a license plate stuck up over the entrance to the main gaming hall which reads [WIREDONLY]. 23:51 <banana> "I know you're not an angel? Or this is the biggest fuckup I've ever made outside of q3dm17." 23:52 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "I can't think of a demonstration that's appropriate... I suppose I should meet candour with candour: I am from Hell. Well... I have family from Hell. I'm from Hampshire." 23:54 <banana> Hambo: "Really? Do you know how to get there?" 23:55 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "No. Do you mean to say you're looking *for* Hell?" 23:58 <banana> Hambo: "Didn't really mean to say any of this. Look, you seem nice. But we should probably, uh, kind of a test. Right? To see if we can trust you, make sure nobody gets real devvo'd." 00:01 <VoxPVoxD> After saying it out loud, Willie's suddenly overcome with the sense that she's gotten herself into serious trouble. But she's committed, at this point, and that comes with something like confidence. "What have you got in mind?" 00:05 <banana> Nige is there. He made very little noise, and he's very tall. Hambo rises out of the stuffed sofa since so much of him is available on any given angle, but Nige still towers over both of you. It could be intimidating, to have a big black guy do that, but he has large and soulful brown eyes. 00:05 <banana> "I am reminded," says the Top Laner, "of the myth of Zeus and Icarus." 00:06 <banana> "Having fallen in love with the son of Daedalus, the great god transformed himself into a golden cage, imprisoning his winged paramour." 00:07 <banana> "But confined Icarus wept, clinging to the bars with his beautiful hands and staring only into the sun, until Zeus was afraid that the boy would be blinded by the freedom he sought." 00:08 <banana> "Zeus made the bars, which were his bones, into lightning, so that Icarus could not hold the, and he fell to the ground; but Icarus gazed into the light of Zeus as if it were the Sun, and his eyes grew milkier." 00:09 <VoxPVoxD> That's not how Willie remembers it, but then she didn't read Classics. 00:09 <banana> "In his desperation, the thunder god consulted Dear Prudence." 00:10 <banana> "The columnist's advice was trite, but accurate as always: if you love him, let him go." 00:11 <banana> Hambo: "So you're saying.. allow Willie to leave? And if she doesn't sell us out, we'll know she's cool?" 00:12 <banana> To Willie: "Feel free to come back some other time, assuming no interim betrayal." 00:13 <banana> Nige: "Yeah, some time we aren't fighting for our damn lives. Jesus. Not to take any names in vain." 00:13 <VoxPVoxD> See? It only seemed absurdly dangerous. A little patience and a preheated pizza stone and Willie Wellesley muddles through. "It would be my pleasure." 00:14 <VoxPVoxD> "Good luck out there." 00:15 <banana> Nigel: "We have focused training Sunday and Wednesday, training or tournaments other afternoons. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday mornings are free time for most of the clan. Good luck with your call." 00:16 <banana> Hambo: "Saturday's fine, but-" He trails off, because Nige is giving him a look. Willie is familiar with this one: 'see me in my office'. 00:18 <VoxPVoxD> Well, she won't keep them any longer. After wishing the LAN at large a general goodbye she steps back out into the sunlight and then exhales a breath she feels like she'd been holding for an hour. What a strange situation! Not like anything she'd ever encountered before. Unfortunately, there's not really anyone to talk to about that... speaking of which, what was this about a call? Did 00:18 <VoxPVoxD> Hambo read her phone's soul? 00:18 <VoxPVoxD> She'll check once she's back in the car. 00:19 <banana> The supermarket on the other side of the road is quiet, still not back up to full capacity after the reopening. Alpha Strike Gamer House (there's another sign, right above the old row house's lintel!) is also quiet from the outside, and in fact all the computer noises cut off the instant she closed the door. 00:20 <VoxPVoxD> A sign on the door! Not hiding at all. 00:20 <VoxPVoxD> ...also not hurting anyone, it seems like. 00:24 <banana> Willie has 650 missed calls in the last ten minutes. They're from an unknown number, but it must be in her contacts somehow, because there's a contact image. 00:24 <VoxPVoxD> What?! 00:24 <banana> It looks like this: http://limits.thomascastiglione.com/media/contact.png 00:25 <VoxPVoxD> Does the contact have a number in the address book? Is it local, if so? 00:25 <banana> No; no; but you're getting another call now. 00:26 <VoxPVoxD> Shit. 00:26 <VoxPVoxD> She's got to answer, hasn't she? Fuck. This is the sort of thing she'd have run by one of the boys back in London. But she's not exactly on speaking terms with them at the moment. 00:27 <VoxPVoxD> Here we go. "Hello?" 00:29 <banana> Willie sits in her car, halfway between a Morrisons and a demon(?) lair. Actually, she's parked way too close to the middle of the street, a full-on traffic hazard. She has a moment of dizziness from the thought, but there's already someone talking, calling her by a technicality - "Lady Douro. In the mood for change?" 00:31 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "To whom am I speaking?" 00:31 <VoxPVoxD> Willie's voice moved up a register without her even thinking about it, like the woman who answered 'Hello' has gone and put her boss on the phone. 00:33 <banana> "Sourjack here. There's no need to look up. You're parked illegally, and you'll need to carry on or make a U-turn. Again, it would be best to watch the road, and there's no need to look up." 00:35 <banana> The voice is male, light-hearted. Obscured a little, perhaps by some machine. 00:36 <VoxPVoxD> Willie starts driving, moving the phone to handsfree. It's quite an old car, so she's got to run it through an honest-to-god cigarette lighter adapter. She keeps her eyes on the road, though the temptation to 'look up' is enormous. "Good afternoon, Sourjack. You have my attention and, I confess, the better of me." 00:38 <banana> Sourjack: "I appreciate the attention and eschew the intention. I don't mean to intimidate, only to offer you a business deal." 00:39 <banana> He speaks rapidly. "Am I correct to say that you've been set adrift? A life derailed from dreary tracks? Life in flux, rejecting the sanctimonies of phonies, and yet- drawn to the mystery still, unable to close a window when you get a whiff of that unknown?" 00:40 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "If you know my name and my number, then you know that I already have gainful employment." She checks her mirrors; is she being followed? "Indeed, you sound very well-prepared. Headhunting?" 00:42 <banana> Sourjack: "That's right. I'll provide the heads... and you do the hunting." 00:42 <banana> "Ask anything you like, do the diligence due before I make you a concrete offer?" 00:42 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "Who are you? How did you find me?" 00:43 <banana> There's no other cars on this block of Chepstow - thank god, because she's right on the center line again. In the distance a light is turning green, so that'll add some traffic. Should help to improve anonymity. 00:44 <banana> "You can call me Sourjack, or Greyjack. It's not my real name, for I'd like to employ you as a face I'm unwilling to present. To the second question- Who's Who." 00:45 <banana> "There is a mark, punctuation combined with a particular turn of phrase." He describes it. "It identifies Children of the Seventh Generation, to the few who're meant to have such an overview, as well as to me." 00:46 <VoxPVoxD> Willie needs to keep from drifting any further right or she'll be in oncoming traffic. "Meaning you are not meant to." 00:46 <banana> Sourjack: "No. I'm unimportant apart from my many contacts. They do say it's about who you know." 00:50 <banana> Going nowhere in particular, you've reached the bridge over Rochdale Canal. There are crowds, now, hotels and the concert hall. Anyone who was watching you back in Deansgate is probably no longer doing so. 00:52 <VoxPVoxD> Willie relaxes just a bit now that there are bystanders and witnesses. "You're hinting at a case for why I might be interested in working for you... but not why you're interested in hiring me." 00:56 <banana> Sourjack: "Experience without attachment. I want people to fill a niche that needs it, an aisle ill-served. You keep the Code.. you know there are things out there that can't be allowed." 00:56 <banana> "So many of the things agree about their thingdred. Opportunity for the open-minded: open hands from the underserved." 00:57 <banana> Sourjack pronounces 'underserved' in the exact fluent way that Willie's heard in policy presentations at DWP. 00:58 <banana> There's a trick of enunciation to it - you aren't saying 'undeserved', quite the opposite to that, except they are very close, aren't they? Civil servants habitually acknowledge without admitting. 01:00 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "Why the circumspection? There is, as you point out yourself, a Code at play. But you're working very hard to sell me." 01:04 <banana> Sourjack: "It's a good deal for me if I can get you in it, you and a few like-skilled souls. I'll outline the offer to limit skittering." 01:06 <banana> He goes on, fast-talking confident voice over the tinny little speaker, screen still showing black and white squares without caller ID. Willie's aimless drive west has reached the old city limit, the boundary between Manchester and Salford, and now she's stuck at a light that won't change. 01:09 <VoxPVoxD> It matches how she feels. Applejack's broader point about stagnation and a need for something new resonates... but that's just one wall of the box she feels like she's been led into, with this mysterious man who knows her name and controls the phone and maybe even the traffic light and is trying to make her an offer she won't refuse. But what if he decides to make an offer she can't? 01:10 <VoxPVoxD> But now he's starting to talk details, and details are comforting. 01:12 <banana> Sourjack: "Monster hunters, that's the most general term for people who walk this line: crossing between day and night, access to the mortal world and awareness of the conspiracies which undergird it." 01:12 <banana> "I want at least four of you, that's enough to make a difference. Cut a swathe through Greater Manchester, because the city needs it.. there's a quantity here that's wrong, a sum that authorities and the vigilantes don't even see because it's all in the family, see. The monsters need hunters." 01:12 <banana> "I have contacts, I know what's going on and who needs help so badly they'll cross outside their sept for it. I have capital, facilities and logistics. I can't do what you do. I'd lose my sources of information if anyone knew I was involved." 01:13 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "I'm sorry, did you say 'the monsters need hunters'?" 01:13 <VoxPVoxD> "You want to hire me to assemble a cell to hunt... discriminately." 01:15 <banana> Sourjack: "I won't take the physical risks, only go between you and your clients. Monsters, people, you know, only they're fanged, winged, ensorcelling people, the created and the empowered. I know them. But I can't even talk to them, not and know them as I do. So I find the jobs, I provide safety and surety, you talk the talk and walk the walk." 01:15 <banana> "You get a share, each. I get a share as silent partner and another share for upkeep and resourcing. I can't imagine we'd work for less than a million pounds, or the equivalent in impossibles." 01:16 <VoxPVoxD> Willie: "How do you expect to provide safety? How do you propose I convince other people of your commitment to safety?" 01:17 <VoxPVoxD> "I'm sure you can guess what anyone you'd care to hire will make of your proposal." 01:18 <VoxPVoxD> "And *I* won't be able to make it on your behalf as you are, from some unassailable remove." 01:18 <banana> Sourjack: "It's a risk. Most of my takers will be greedy, thoughtless or dangerously driven." 01:19 <banana> "That's why I need at least one of you who can evaluate. Turn here and I'll direct you to the safehouse I propose." 01:19 <VoxPVoxD> Willie turns. She doesn't feel like she has a choice, though she'll come to feel differently in retrospect. 01:21 <banana> "The fit and fittings I'll provide," says Sourjack, "But to convince you it's enough, I'll take the obvious course: you tell me."